


Schutzengel

by Necia (HiveMind)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiveMind/pseuds/Necia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is visited by someone from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Schutzengel

A large, snarling feline leapt into view, looking from the detective to the doctor. Sherlock looked terrified, not like himself, but he watched the creature intently. He knew that it was not a creature that would attempt to maim him. It approached him, earning a squeak of protest from the doctor. John looked terrified of the monster, though it made no move to harm him.

“Vormund…” Sherlock whispered, kneeling down to stroke its large head. It purred back at him and arched up into his touch.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Vormund, John. It’s German for ‘guardian.’”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Sherlock.”

“Vormund, I knew her years ago. Why she’s come back now I cannot even begin to guess. Her obligations to me were ended so long ago.”

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be touching that animal like that?” John asked, squeaking again when the feline rounded on him. It snarled angrily and pounced, easily bowling the man over. As it bared its teeth at John and the doctor inwardly begged it to let him go, the big cat nuzzled John’s face lovingly.

“She won’t hurt you, John. She doesn’t like being called ‘that animal’ apparently. And of course it’s okay for me to touch her. Vormund loves me.”

John had begun laughing and stroking the animal’s head, enjoying the feeling of a wild cat acting like a domesticated one. Sherlock rolled his eyes at them and smiled a bit. It was cute, but John would most definitely have questions later.

 

o.O.o.O.o

 

Later, much later, John looked out onto the patio of the inn they’d chosen to stay in. The night was warm and pleasant, but something was amiss. The feline from earlier that evening was missing, and in its place there was a woman. Her hair was fiery-red; her eyes were dark and John could have sworn they were black as the night that surrounded her, but there was something else. Sherlock was sitting at a small table with her. John crept to a position in which he could hear what they were saying.

“…I don’t understand, help me understand.”

“Help you understand what?”

“Why you’re here.”

The woman chuckled. It was a high pitched sound that made John’s heart leap at the sound of it. She said, “I told you I would come back, Sherlock. I said you wouldn’t know when or where, but I would see you again even if it killed me. How long have you known, by the way?”

Sherlock smirked, “For years, my Schutzengel...”

The woman he called Schutzengel took his hand in hers and smiled up at him. John’s eyes widened; Sherlock was letting her touch him, letting her hold his hand. That and he was smiling about it.

“Vormund…that’s what you called me. You remembered…”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

She laughed in earnest, “Sherlock, you do have a tendency to delete things from your hard drive.”

He didn’t reply; he just smiled at her. It looked to John like he was squeezing her hand lightly. The doctor was honestly shocked. He had never, in all of his days with the stoic, supposedly asexual detective, seen him act this way toward a woman unless it would benefit him in one way or another. John knew he should go and leave them in peace, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He’d heard the name of the animal from earlier and began to put two and two together. He knew that it was she who had shown up and knocked him over after she’d let Sherlock pet her; she was the animal. The poor doctor could barely contain his surprise, but some how managed to keep his silence for a few moments longer.

“Melody…” Sherlock whispered as he pressed her pale, petite hand to his lips. He held her hand in both of his, making her hand look impossibly tiny in comparison.

“Sherlock…” she whispered back, taking her hand from his and touching his warm cheek.

The detective leaned in closer to the woman he had called Melody and lightly touched his lips to hers. For a moment, she allowed herself to be pulled into the temporary softness of the tall, warm man. In the morning he would be back to normal.

John slipped away quietly; he had seen enough.

 

o.O.o.O.o

 

Four days later, the lioness was still hanging around Sherlock. During the day, she mostly stayed in Sherlock’s room and out of sight. John visited her only once. He let her rest her head in his lap and stroked her head. Sherlock was goodness knows where doing goodness knows what and probably wouldn’t be back for hours, so John had some time. When she sat up and looked him in the eye he seized the moment:

“I know who you really are. I saw you, the real you, with Sherlock that night.”

She snorted and bowed her head, looking irritated and somewhat saddened by the development. There was a brief flash of light. When it had faded, there sat a ginger-haired woman before him, her legs crossed and elbows resting on her knees. “Bet you think you’re clever…” she said.

John chuckled softly, “A bit. I mean, I did learn one of Sherlock’s secrets. He wasn’t very careful, mind. He did mention your names quite a lot.”

“He did, didn’t he? I’m surprised neither of us noticed that you were watching. See, years ago when he was on a case his brother Mycroft hired me to protect him. I did as Mycroft asked; I protected Sherlock with my life, which I almost lost. I would have traded myself to terrorists if I thought that would keep him safe. Somewhere along the way I fell in love with Sherlock Holmes. Wait…how much did you see?”

John thought for a moment “I left towards the end. You know, when he…er…kissed you…” he replied, going slightly red at the thought of what he’d seen.

“Oh. That’s good. It didn’t go much farther than that. We’ve never gone further than that, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

John’s face took on an alarming shade of crimson at her statement, “Wasn’t wondering, but thanks.”

“Oh!” she said, laughing, “Sorry, Dr. Watson.”

“Please call me John.”

“You can call me Melody. That’s my name. I’m sure you heard that.”

John nodded and grinned down at her. She was pretty, but he was sure Sherlock wouldn’t like him making a move on her. The detective seemed to be oddly attached to her.

“Yeah…yeah, I did. You know, I’ve noticed that he acts different around you. Do you know why that is?”

Melody laughed softly, a sound that made John’s heart flutter strangely, “I’m the fist person who took a bullet for him. It almost killed me, but it was worth it.”

“Mm.” he replied, not knowing how to respond to that. They both heard the key card unlock the door to the room. Melody looked at the door and shook her head.

“Sherlock won’t be happy about this…”

 

o.O.o.O.o

 

“You did _what_?”

“I’m sorry, Sherlock! How was I supposed to know who she was? How was I supposed to know?”

Melody sat by the window, watching them in case things got out of hand. It was obvious to her that the statement she had made earlier was a terrible understatement. Saying that Sherlock was unhappy about what had happened did not even cover how he felt; Sherlock was furious. She didn’t understand why. John had been curious; he had done exactly what she would have done if she wanted to get information, but was unable to ask the person directly. When Sherlock fell silent, Melody rose from her seat and stepped up to the doctor.

“I think it best if you leave us for now. Give him time to calm down.” she whispered, her eyes never leaving Sherlock. He was fuming, the gears in his head temporarily stuck. John nodded and left the room in a hurry, knowing he shouldn’t have told Sherlock how he had found out.

Melody took Sherlock’s hand and made him look at her. Her eyes spoke the words her lips could not; the detective calmed quickly. The power this supernatural woman somehow held over him was something that not even Sherlock understood. He didn’t know why he was so connected to her or why he listened to her without question; he just did these things. He allowed himself to be hugged and touched by her, something he wouldn’t let any other woman in the world do even if they begged for the chance to do so.

“Don’t be so hard on him, Sherlock. Everyone gets curious. Can you really blame him?”

Sherlock flopped onto the bed and began to sulk. Melody scowled down at him and shook her head. She remembered this all too well. Whenever something didn’t go Sherlock’s way or he was bored he would sulk like this for what could turn out to be minutes or hours.

“Get up. Come on, get up. You’re in your thirties; you’re too damn old to be sulking like that.” she chastised, tapping his leg lightly. He groaned back at her and held the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “Sherlock Holmes! Will you please cut that out?” Of course, he didn’t. Melody laughed and flopped down beside him. “Look at us; the freak,” she felt him tense next to her, “and the pouting consulting detective.” She felt him relax and turned her head to look at him. “You didn’t really think I’d call you a freak, did you? You’re not a freak, Sherlock. I wouldn’t say that about you.” She felt him shrug and laughed. He could be such a difficult man.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random plot bunny that, as usual, demanded to be written. It's turning out to be more than I intended it to be, but that's not much of a problem now is it? 
> 
>  
> 
> ****I know it's taking a while to get the second bit up here, but it just isn't going where I want it to so I'm trying to get it in order and have it up when I'm satisfied.****


End file.
